Falling Freely
by the-speed-reader
Summary: She can feel her heart beat elevating; she wants to scream but she can't, his hand preventing her from crying for help. But then he speaks, his voice low. "Skye, you gotta run," he says urgently. "They're going for the team; they're gonna be looking for you but you have to hide as far away as possible. Please Skye," he's begging now. "Please, you have to stay safe."


_For some reason I can't stop writing SkyeWard pregnancy AU's._

_Yup. I'm weird._

_On with the story, then._

* * *

"_For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home._" -Stephanie Perkins

* * *

She doesn't move when she hears the news, big and empty, spreading across her mind in the blink of a thought. Her hands are clenched, her fingernails digging into the vulnerable skin of her palms, her eyes closed in a desperate attempt _not to cry_. Because she couldn't, however badly she wanted to collapse to the ground and never get up. Everything good in her life had been stolen away from her by one man's allegience; and everything bad, everything that's ever haunted and tortured her through nightmares, is appearing quite suddenly. Her breaths are ragged as she stares a hole in the small window outside, her heels tapping together as they swing gently off the table. She hops off then, ignoring the comforting words of Simmons, and instead walks point blank out of the room, deaf to the world.

Her feet walk heavily among the carpet, though she does not know where she is going. Her mind is a blur of monsters and thoughts that don't belong there; a swear slips from her lips when she nearly trips over a step leading out of the building, but otherwise says nothing as she continues. The streets are filled with people, laughter entering the air with no intention of leaving. She hates it; she hates how everyone can be so happy when the world is tumbling down around her, when even the stars themselves have turned against her knowledge.

There's no one following her; she makes sure of that as she takes side streets, alleys, and pathways that are home to no other soul. She's far away from the little building where she had been brought now, far away from anyone she knows. There's an aching hole in her chest where _he _should be, but he isn't. He was gone with two words that escaped the world and shattered thousands of lives.

She whispers the name of the organization, her breath escaping into the cold air. Her fingers are slowly growing numb, the thin jacket she was wearing not covering her from the cold. She's in little more than flip-flops and shorts, something that is working against her at the moment. Tears are threatening to spill from her eyes, to release themselves into the world and platter against the cold, hard ground. Her nose twisted when an unfamiliar smell reached her, something that was tangy yet smelled smoky at the same time. She passes multiple vendors as her feet take her further and further away from the knowledge, the news, she had just been told.

Because she was barely twenty-two years old, and even that fact she was unsure of; her birthday had been chosen by a woman who had taken care of her at the orphanage, an older, gray haired lady who had told Skye to call her _Nana_. Her birth date was one that was unknown to any living person, save the possible being of her mother. But she was still young, so much younger than _him. _Hacking files had allowed him to learn that he was about thirty years old, going on the tip of another year soon.

She was in love with him; but that wasn't the only factor in this equation, a little piece that had led to her downfall. Her fingers were by her sides now, but they moved to her middle, touching it gently with her thumb. It was harder than usual, something she now knew the cause of. Because she was pregnant with _his _child, a situation she could have never imagined in a thousand empty years.

The tears were falling freely now and she pauses while passing through a rather empty alleyway, with bricks on either side and only a single door a few feet away. Her knees seem to give out from under her and a half choked sob escapes from her throat, hands touching the rough gravel on the ground. She wasn't ready to be a mother; she couldn't be a mother, not to a baby born to a father who was a traitor, no better than a monster.

She didn't know how she could care for the little being growing inside of her. Her emotions are spinning as she sobs against the pavement, her knees stained by rocks. She's never felt like this before, never been in a situation like this. Simmons had only just confirmed that she was pregnant, about seven weeks if she was certain. She was showing, barely, but it was still there. She had just thought it was binge eating to cover up the pain of betrayal. But then one thing after another led to the terrifying thought and she had gone to Simmons to beg her to confirm it.

And the bio-chem graduate had confirmed it, her eyes sad as she did so. The British girl didn't need to ask who the father was; she had known the moment Skye had stepped through the door. Blood was pounding in her ears, the whispers of strangers fading into the world. Her throat was choked up and her tears were hitting the gravel, forming wet tears against the rocks. She didn't deserve this baby. She didn't.

But it's then that she comes slightly back into focus before she's yanked up roughly, hands wrapping tightly around her upper arms. Instincts kick in and she's landing a harsh fist against a chest, but then she's pinned up against the wall with her hands above her head and fingers over her mouth.

Her eyes flash in anger, but then the tears clear; and she's looking into the fearful eyes of Grant Ward.

She makes to scream, to shout, but then pauses; his expression is one she's never seen before, one of terror and another emotion she could not identify. "Quiet," he whispers harshly when she struggles. "Hang on a minute, Skye, please just stay still."

She doesn't trust him; then she hears the shouts and explosions coming into the air and her body freezes. But then she remembers her training and goes limp, causing him to slightly release his grip. It's all she needs before she's kneeing him in the chest, forcing him to stumble away slightly. She drops to the ground and runs, sprinting down the hallway. The explosions sounded like they were coming from the building the team was holed up in; she had to get there, had to save them -

- but then she's caught by the waist, jerking her back as he pins her flush to his chest and pulls them into the shadows, behind a rather large separation that hides them from both exits of the alley. She's terrified now, she struggles even more, she can't let him get to her, can't let him get to the baby.

He's jerking her to the ground, pinning her down with her wrists hitting the gravel harshly. She's pressed in the corner now, with trapped. Her eyes are wide with terror; _please no_, she pleads in her mind. _Please, not the baby._

His mouth is set firm as he stares at her. She can feel her heart beating elevating; she wants to scream but she can't, his hand preventing her from crying for help. But then he speaks, his voice low. "Skye, you gotta run," he says urgently. "They're going for the team; they're gonna be looking for you but you have to hide as far away as possible. Please Skye," he's begging now. "Please, you have to stay safe."

He removes his hand from her mouth and she spits at him, her eyes glaring murderous thoughts. "Go to hell," she hisses. "And get away from me."

She struggles, but he's too strong. A strong feeling of panic is coming over her as his hand accidentally brushes against her stomach. She screams. "Get away from me!"

But there's an odd feeling over his face and suddenly his fingers are at the hem of her tank top, jerking it up a few inches, touching her middle gently. Her eyes slam shut; she can feel him scrutinizing her stomach, seeing the baby bump.

Her breathing hitches when he touches her cheek, a tear slipping down her eye. "Skye?" he says, his voice numb. "Are you - pregnant?"

"Bastard," she chokes. "Son-of-a-bitch, you no good, goddamn liar; get the hell away from me."

He lets her go then, but she thinks it's more in shock than anything else. She takes this chance to run, to hide. She makes it out of the alleyway and ducks into a nearby shop, where most of the occupants are cowering. An older woman sees her panicked face and motions for her to hide.

He doesn't come after her.

* * *

She finds a small motel near the outside of town and takes three showers to get the feeling of his hands off of her. She sobs now, not even bothering to try and hide. The team hasn't contacted her since the explosions; she's not sure if they're dead, alive, or being held captive. But _he _had found her and told her to run; she isn't sure whether or not to trust him, but she's going to stay as far away as possible.

She stays there for a few days, lulling around, sleeping, and doing nothing. She barely eats; its not good for the baby, but she isn't in much of a mental state to do anything. Her heart is heavy and her hands and trembling, her body constantly trembling.

When she finally regains enough mentality, they've found her. There's a knock at her door and she freezes, her hair still damp from a recent shower, but then she hears his voice.

"Skye?" Coulson's voice leaks through the door, partly carrying exhaustion and desperation. "Skye, sweetheart, please open the door."

She's by there in a second, slamming it open and throwing her arms around him. He envelops her in his arms, holding her tightly. One of his hands runs down her hair. "I'm alright," he says.

When she looks up at him, her eyes are wet. But she can still see the bruises decorating his temple so she puts her hand up, putting one finger on them. He winces. "What happened?" she asks, her voice hesitant.

"We escaped, but barely," he responds grimly. "What happened to you? One minute you're storming out of the building and the next we're being attacked."

When she speaks, it's in a choked voice. "He found me," she whispers, and Coulson's eyes narrow in something she recognizes as protectiveness.

"I swear, if he hurt you -"

She cuts him off. "I'm pregnant," she whispers.

His eyes widen in shock and his mouth parts. "Skye," he whispers. "Oh, Skye."

He holds her as she cries until she can't cry anymore.

* * *

Coulson takes her to where the rest of the team is holed up, an empty S.H.I.E.L.D. base that hasn't been used in decades. They all hug her, looking relived to see her, but her tear stricken face and Coulson's grim one silences them. It's then that she tells them, only to see the happiness slip off FitzSimmons's faces and May's turn into a stony cold one.

It's then that Skye remembers May's previous relationship with Ward and she closes her eyes, trying to stop from crying again. She's sobbed enough in the past few days; she's done.

The days turn into weeks and the weeks slip into months, with them all working hard to try and seed out all of the traitors. The progress is small, but it's worth it. She's getting bigger and bigger by the day; most of her time is spent on her laptop now, hacking into wherever Coulson tells her to. She's grounded from missions, something that upsets her greatly, but she respects the order given by the only man she's ever seen as a father figure.

She gives birth two weeks early, in a small, family run hospital near the border of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. They rush her there the moment the contractions hit, but all she can think about is how much she wishes this wasn't happening to her.

But her mind changes the moment she sees her daughter for the first time, a little bundle of screaming that nearly breaks her ears the moment she hears her. The dark haired girl is placed in her arms, a little nose crinkling at the smells of the new world, and she can't stop looking. The infant is so beautiful it nearly hurts her eyes to look at her. She's got little brown eyes and Skye's smile, but her hair and nose are Ward's through and through.

That nearly makes her sob all over again, but Skye keeps it together as the team crowds around her. She's had a lot of time to think of names, but the moment her daughter's face appears she knows what to name her.

Bay Elizabeth is a budge of joy, always giggling a little laugh that nearly made everyone's hearts melt. No one could not love her; even May developed a special little bond with the her.

The first few weeks are rough, but she loves her daughter more than life itself. She can't imagine how she lived life without her; her thoughts are still swirling, terrified that Ward might show up to take away her daughter, but life goes on. They're still working hard on finding HYRDA agents, still crowded on the underground base, still worried each day that they're going to be attacked. But Bay adds a bit of sunshine to the group, slowing filling a hole left by her absent father.

* * *

Bay is four months and two weeks old when HYDRA attacks, slicing through the walls of the base as if they were built of nothing more than plastic. She runs, taking her daughter and hiding her beneath her jacket and a makeshift sling that she settles Bay in. Her heart is pounding and she's praying while she runs. _Please don't let them find us, please don't let them get her -_

But her prayers are left unanswered, because just before she makes it out of the building, there's a dark profile looming in the exit, blocking her escape. She bolts the other direction, but it's then a slab of concrete falls, nearly crushing her and Bay. She jerks out of the way, covering her daughter with one arm and the other pulling out a gun out of the holster attached to her left leg.

It's then she sees the face of her attacker and she freezes, her heart beating wildly. A swear tumbles from her lips and she raises the gun, pointing it straight at the face of Grant Ward.

But he doesn't care; instead, his eyes are trained at the shifting bundle behind her jacket, a little face with blinking eyes just appearing for him to see. But Skye turns, blocking his view from Bay. "Stand down, Ward," she hisses. "Step away from the door."

He doesn't move. "She's got your eyes," he whispers. "And my hair."

A hot flash of heat runs through her. "Move," she grits her teeth. "Last warning."

"Skye -" he starts to stay, stepping forward, his hands limp by his side.

"Get away from us!" she shouts, standing her ground. "Get the hell away!"

"She's my daughter too," he argues.

She laughs a terrible laugh, her eyes narrowing. "You have no rights, _traitor_."

She shoots then, the loud noise echoing in the small space. He crumbles to the ground, clutching his upper thigh. She takes this moment to sprint by him, escaping the building. The team meets her in an escaping helicopter and pulls her in. Skye holds her daughter close to her chest and tries to wipe the memory of his pleading eyes from her thoughts.

* * *

Two months later the team is now in Portland, hiding out at an old friend of Coulson's, a cellist. The woman coos over Bay and fell head over heels the moment she saw the infant.

But Bay's not with her now. Simmons volunteered to watch her while she went to the nearest store to grab some more formula. She shops quickly, keeping one eye on the watch wrapped around her wrist and the other at the other shoppers, making sure they aren't a threat.

When she returns though, the house is in shambles. Her heart is beating wildly as she pulls Simmons out of the fire, along with the cellist. Both women cough harshly and can barely speak, but Skye manages to get three words out of Simmons before she falls unconscious: _Ward took her._

* * *

She marches herself straight into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s former headquarters and surrenders herself to HYDRA, demanding that she see Ward. They lead her to a small cell and chain her up; she doesn't care, only repeats, constantly, that she see Ward. Her demands are left unanswered and they interrogate her, harshly. When they're done she can only see stars and there's bruises and cuts all over her, but she is still spitting the words, _bring me Ward._

He comes though, when she's barely conscious. She slurs the words, "Bastard," before he's placing their daughter in her arms. She holds her tightly as the little girl squeals in delight, happy to be in her mother's hands again.

Ward's eyes are framed with circles. "You shouldn't be here," he tells her, his voice harsh.

"You shouldn't have taken my daughter," she spits, her words slightly mumbled. She's slipping into unconsciousness, she can feel it, but she's still holding on tightly to her daughter. "She's mine," she hisses, one last time.

He bends down on his knees in front of her. "I will get you out," he whispers, his voice low.

She barely hears it. As her vision goes black, she can see his worried expression staring down at her.

When she wakes, she's lying in a hospital bed, blinking. She jerks upright, her heart beating. There's a bandage around her ribs and she's attached to an IV line, but she can't seem to get her bearings. It's then she catches glimpse of a makeshift cradle beside her bed, with Bay sleeping peacefully at her side.

She moves to get out of bed, but then the door opens, revealing a kind old face of a man in a lab coat. "How are you feeling?" he asks, coming up to the side of her bed.

"Where am I?" she demands.

"You're in a hospital not far out of New York. A man dropped off you and this little one, saying you were in urgent need of medical care. He left though. Do you know who he was?"

She stares out a window to her right. "No," she lies.

* * *

He doesn't appear again for a while. She receives gifts for their daughter on Bay's birthday, but he stays out of sight for the next five years, with her wondering what was going on. She sets up a new life for her and her daughter, getting an apartment near LA and getting a job at a local computer company. Life's hard and money is tight, but she couldn't be happier. The team visits from time to time, with FitzSimmons always cooing over their god-daughter.

It's on the eve of Bay's seventh birthday when he shows up at their door, carrying a giant teddy bear in one hand. She hears the shout, "Momma, there's a man at the door!" before she's rushing there and sees him.

She freezes, while her daughter only stares curiously at the dark-haired man. "Momma? Who's this?"

"I'm Grant," he tells Bay, whose little eyes are wide with curiosity. "I'm a friend of your mother's."

Her heartbeat is pounding; blood is rushing to her ears. She stays middy calm though, but tenses when he hands Bay the bear, brushing his finger against her cheek. "Happy birthday," he tells her, and she squeals in delight.

"Thank you!" Bay yells as she rushes away from them, down the hallway to put it with her other toys.

"What do you want?" Skye asks, the moment their daughter is out of hearing range, her fingers slowly reaching for the knife she carries in her pocket.

But her answer is not one she expects. "You," he states, stepping forward and capturing her mouth with his.

When he finishes, her fingers are tangled in his hair, his hands on her hips, the knife long forgotten. "I missed you," he mummers. "It's been a long time."

"Why are you here?" she whispers into his mouth.

He kisses her again, hungrily. "I'm done, Skye," he tells her harshly. "I just want to come home to my daughter."

She freezes slightly, her eyes meeting his. "Should I trust you?"

"Yes," he says, no hint of hesitation in his voice.

And she believes him.

* * *

_Hope everyone liked..._


End file.
